


By Any Other Name

by sunnynights



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Downton Abbey Fusion, Crossdressing, F/F, Falling In Love, Lies, M/M, Nobility, Sibling Bonding, Twelfth Night - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnynights/pseuds/sunnynights
Summary: Baron Vassar needs to secure a wealthy groom for his daughter. The Earl of Whitestone needs a friend. The twins just want to make trouble.The result? Crossdressing, high society romance, and a tangled web of lies!
Relationships: Keyleth/Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vax'ildan, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

Vex'halia stood on the bustling pier, grinning like an idiot as she waited for the ship to dock. The salty sea air whipped her dress around, the calls of gulls and shouting sailors filled her ears. She tried to push down her almost daily yearning to be a part of this. To escape her life, brimming with curtsies and dinner invitations and petty gossip. But her loyalty to the family name wasn't a duty so easily shirked. Especially when its full weight was on her shoulders.

"Vex!"

She scanned the crowd, her gaze landing on a head of flowing black hair and a face so sweet to see. Vex'halia pushed past and wrapped her arms tightly around the slight frame of her twin brother, Vax'ildan.

"I was scared you wouldn't recognize me," she said into his chest.

"That would be something, seeing as we look just about the same. Now stop crushing me!" He pushed Vex off, his eyes misty. "I missed you so incredibly much."

"I missed you more. Ever since I heard you were coming back to England, I've been rereading your letters nonstop."

"I have got so many more stories to tell you."

"Tell me on the way. It's a long ride back."

The pair made their way off the harbor, chattering away and nearly attached at the hip. Just as they had so many years ago.

“Where’s the chauffeur?” Vax asked, lifting the last of his baggage into the trunk of a motorcar.

“Darling,” Vex did a spin. “She’s right in front of you.”

“You?” Vax leaned against the car, looking at his sister incredulously. “And how does Father feel about his little socialite driving around unchaperoned?”

“Father doesn’t need to have an opinion on everything. He’s grown a little more mellow over the years.”

“Shame he didn’t feel the same when I was around.” The light in his eyes dimmed slightly. “I don’t suppose he’s at home awaiting my arrival with bated breath?”

“Vax,”

“Does he even know I’m coming? Or am I still unwelcome in my childhood home?” Vax roughly pulled open the passenger side door.

Vex slid into the driver’s seat, starting up the engine. “Don’t talk like that. Syngorn Place has always been your home as much as it is mine.”

Vax flicked her ear. “Forget it. Let’s see if you can get us there one piece.”

They sped away, down the winding dirt roads, past stone and gravel towns, through rolling hills of lush green, under skies of cloudy grey. Standard English fare that Vex’halia would trade away in a second for the figments of Vax’ildan’s stories.

“By then,” he recounted. “They’d passed Prohibition. It was a risk but I made a bloody _fortune_ bootlegging liquor. I was ready to retire right then and there, when a certain jazz singer I was involved with made off with every last penny!“

“She didn’t!”

“She did! Luckily, I still had the bangle I stole off the Frenchman in Pondicherry. You know, the one who claimed to be the incarnate of Marie Antoinette. I pawned the bangle and bought the first ticket to England.”

Vex shook her head. “I swear these stories are better suited to a fiction novel than something I’m to believe.”

“I reckon that’s part of the fun,” Vax smiled, leaning back and breathing in the fresh country air. “You’ve let me blabber on long enough, tell me about what you’ve been up to.”

Vex sighed. “A whole load of nothing. Father expects me to be prim and proper at all times.”

“The man should have bought a porcelain doll rather than father a pair of bastards,” Vax muttered. “He’s so high and mighty when he’s only a baron. Imagine how insufferable he would be with a crown.”

“I wouldn’t wish that upon this nation,” Vex laughed. “He’s been rather busy these days so I carry on with small hobbies he’d find completely unsuitable for a young woman. Driving, reading, shooting, baking. Anything to stave off the wretched quiet.”

“I’ve found the best remedy for that is company.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you had my company. If I’m to have tea with one more old dowager or dull friend of Father’s, I’ll surely hang myself.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Vax leaned in closer. “Any lads or ladies catch your eye?”

“I’ve been dreading the topic," she groaned. "Ever since the war, we’re not nearly as wealthy as we once were. Father is desperate for me to pounce on one of the few healthy, prosperous men left in England. I’m ever so tired of debutante balls.”

“It’s always Father this and Father that. When do you get to live for yourself?”

“That opportunity was stolen from me when the heir to the barony ran away from home,” Vex shot back. She let her knuckles ease on the steering wheel. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right," he sighed. "I couldn’t breathe here, with all the traditions and formalities. But it was selfish of me to leave you with those same pressures.” Vax faced Vex, a meeting of matching hazel eyes. “I’m here now. And I don’t intend to leave until you find my repentance acceptable.”

The car pulled up before the large country house of grey stone, nestled into trimmed grass and joined by small brook: Syngorn Place. A small, elderly man in a neat suit skittered out.

“Lady Vex’halia,” he bowed deeply. “And Lord Vax'ildan, what a sight for sore eyes!”

Vax wrinkled his nose at the sound of his title. “Erwen Dastell. It saddens me that you are still a servant to my father. Surely tending to pigs is a similar, more fulfilling position?”

“I’ll have none of that!” he squeaked. “Lord Syldor treats me quite well and I will serve him until he no longer needs me.”

“He finds it quite easy to toss aside those that are close to him. Maybe you could lend him some of your loyalty.”

Vex put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Enough. Mr. Dastell, is my father home?”

“He’s gone up to London, m’lady, and did not inform me of when he would be returning."

“Typical,” Vax muttered.

Dastell ignored him. “I shall send someone to bring the luggage upstairs, and Laina will put a kettle on. Lady Vex’halia, something of great importance came in the post and Lord Syldor asks that you read it as soon as possible.” He bowed once more and hurried away.

Vex grabbed Vax‘s hand and pulled him through the arched entryway. “Welcome home,” she beamed. “Is it just as you remember it?”

Vax looked around. It was the same old hall, decorated with objects signifying a legacy and gifts from various nobles and furniture from the Dark Ages. If he thought about it, he could pinpoint exact locations of a prank or a fun childhood memory with Vex. But that would mean digging through the bad memories too, and he had more of those than good. He forced a smile. “It would surprise me more if anything had changed.”

A large, droopy basset hound waddled over and splayed itself on Vax’s feet. His grin widened into something genuine.

“Trinket!” He dropped to his knees and rubbed the dog all over. “I can’t believe he’s lived this long on a diet of cheese and tea cakes.”

“He’s spoiled rotten,” Vex voiced. She lifted the stiff envelope on the table. “That’s curious.”

Vax looked up, earning a demanding whine from the dog. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s from the Earl of Whitestone. He owns an estate east of here.”

“Right. Are those the loonies that never leave their house?”

Vex gave him a look. “They’re just...eccentric. And most of them have passed so we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. I assume this letter is from the new heir.” She slit the envelope and pulled out the contents, groaning as she read. “Damn it! He’s hosting a banquet to celebrate the reopening of the estate, _tonight_.”

“The man’s not one for prior notice, it seems.”

“Father must be over the moon at even the slightest chance of me wedding an Earl. He’ll send me to the gallows if I don’t attend and make a good impression.”

“Is it really so bad? Just sounds to me like free food and rich people fawning over you.”

“Try going to one every other night. They're so stiff and formal."

"I've never been to any sort of high society party." Vax took the invitation from her hands, looking it over. "Would you mind if I attended, then?"

“I don’t doubt you’ll have the attendees head over heels, but the Earl has requested a lady and not a lord. It seems impolite to invite yourself.”

Vax stood in silence for several seconds, deep in thought, before proposing his plan. "When if I went as you?"

Vex rolled her eyes. "This is the kind of horrid idea that only you could be trusted to come up with."

"It's a _genius_ idea. We look identical and you don't want to go, so send me in as your replacement."

"You're not serious!" She snatched back the invitation. "It's not a New York City drag performance. There are traditions and expectations that you know nothing about."

"If I'm found out, the only person I've made a fool of is myself,"

"AND the family's reputation!" Vex interjected.

"But," Vax wiggled his brows at his sister. "If I'm rather convincing, you might have yourself a prospect."

Vex crossed her arms. "You, a man dressed as a woman, with NO knowledge of conduct yourself in proper company, are going to charm someone in one night? You're lucky I don't gamble."

Vax pinched her cheeks, pulling her face side to side with each word. "Please? I don't think I can manage being here when Father comes. Let me have one ridiculous night of fun before I live under his roof again."

"You...really haven't changed a bit since we were last together. I've missed it." She smiled brightly. "This place could always use a little more twins mischief."

"We're doing this?"

She smacked his hands off her face. "Bloody hell yes, we are!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched downton abbey and am forced to bring back vax in a dress,,,not to flex but my mind is so powerful


	2. Chapter 2

Vex’halia rapped at the door again. “Does it always take you this long to get ready?”

“Christ, would you bloody give me a minute?” Vax’ildan grumbled.

“What good fortune that androgyny is the modern fashion,” she said, her back against the wall.” You’re built like a riding crop.”

“It’ll be quite a surprise when someone slips off my dress and finds neither corset nor anything to compress.”

Vex felt her face grow hot. “No one will be slipping anything off when you’re acting like me, do you understand?”

Muffled giggles emanated from the other side of the door. “I forget that you’ve maintained your purity and respectability.” A few seconds of silent struggling passed before the door swung open. “Alright, what do you think?”

Vex inspected her brother. One of her newest dresses, sleeveless and embellished with beads, hung loosely on his thin figure. The deep crimson was starkly flattering against his pale skin. The slight bit of décolletage visible was smooth, his arms and legs were freshly hairless. 

“You could be in Vogue. The Braille version, anyways.” 

“Thanks,” He leaned in closer. “How’s my makeup?”

Dark kohl-lined eyes. Scarlet lips. Mascara lengthened his already impossibly long lashes. His cheeks were pink with rouge, two blushing circles bringing a soft roundness to his otherwise angular face.

“It’s daring for such a traditional environment. Dare I ask when you got so good?”

“That’s a story for another time.” He surveyed his sister’s outfit. “You look alright yourself. Maybe not like a man, but perhaps a boy.”

Vex’halia was in the cap and coat of their chauffeur. Her chest was bound and oversized trousers hid the curve of her hips. Dark powder contoured her face, creating the illusion of harsh masculine angles. A tight braid fell down her back.

“That’s fine, it’s not me people will be scrutinizing. Let me pick out your jewelry.”

Vax sat down before the vanity. “Are you sure you’re alright with me leaving you alone?”

She looked up from digging through her jewelry box. “Of course I’m alright, being a man sounds grand! After I drive you, I’m going to go have dinner at a _pub._ Alone! Father would never approve.”

She handed Vax a pair of dangling tassel earrings of silver and pearl. Brushing aside his hair, she clasped the matching necklace.  
They stared at his reflection in the mirror for several seconds until Vex broke the silence.

“Do you know who you look like?”

“You?”

“Obviously. But you look a little like Mother.”

He gave a melancholy smile. “She used to put me in your dresses sometimes, just for fun.”

“I remember. She would call it a fashion show and let us play with her makeup. We made such a mess.”

“Syldor hit her for doing that.” Any trace of the half-smile he wore was gone. Wistful nostalgia replaced by an angry sadness. “Do you...do you think she’s proud of us? Of the people we’ve grown into?”

“She loved us unconditionally. She wouldn’t have accepted Father’s terms if she didn’t. So I don’t think we have to earn her pride, she would have given it freely.”

Vax sighed. "When did you get so wise?" he asked, fanning his eyes.

Vex kissed him on the top of his head. "I've had a lot of time to think. Now, let's get going!"

She grabbed Vax's hand and led him through the servant's passages, running giggly and gleeful like they were kids again. When they got outside, she theatrically opened the car door for Vax and quickly pulled away from Syngorn Place. As she drove, she littered the ride with stipulations.

"Don't smoke, don't drink too much, don’t sit with your legs apart," she listed. "If someone recognizes me, just go along with it and don't speak ill of Father. If someone looks twice your age, be extra nice. Don't talk back, don't be vulgar, don't flirt too hard, don't talk about politics, don't talk ill about the royal family or how much you disapprove of British nobility."

"Will that be all?"

"Not even close, but it's what I hope sticks."

"Believe it or not, Vex, I do know how to conduct myself in proper company." He grinned and splayed his legs apart. “I just choose not to.”

Whitestone, seated at the center of a sizable estate, came into view. It was a massive castle built of, as per its name, of white stone. Several floors of innumerable windows were spaced by carved ornamental detail. Parapets lined the flat roofs.

Vex brought the car around the front, past a row of topiaries and fountains. From the manor came a butler, ancient and distinguished. Vex came out and opened the door to the back seat.

“Presenting,” she said, making her voice as gruff as possible. “The Honourable Lady Vex’halia Vassar.”

The butler bowed as Vax stepped down from the car. “Welcome, Lady Vex’halia. I am Archibald. Lord de Rolo thanks you for your presence. Would you like me to lead you to him or announce your arrival to the hall?”

“No, thank you!” Vax said, a little too high. He winced, readjusting his falsetto. “I mean, I would prefer to make my own way around.”

“Very well, m’lady. If you’ll come with me,”

 _”Good luck!”_ Vex whispered as she tipped her cap and climbed back into the car.

Vax listened to her speed away as he entered the manor. The floors were dark wood and decorative rugs. Gold veneered columns rose up to a high ceiling, dripping with crystal chandeliers and more paintings than the Sistine Chapel. Nearly a hundred people in rich dresses and suits filled the hall. Some looked over him momentarily, while the others stood tall and remained engrossed in their conversations. Servants zipped around with trays of drinks. One of the servants stopped before him, bowing so low that Vax couldn't see their reaction to him emptying two flutes of champagne in quick succession. He lifted a third before setting off into the crowd.

Wandering the party was something of a dance. Vax took in the sights, watching over attendees in search of anything to pique his interest while avoiding anyone that looked too closely. A fit of laughter erupted from the corner as he passed by. Vax paused and, bolstered by the warm tingle of inebriation, walked backward.

"What was that?"

A heavyset, balding man at the center of the small group gave him a dismissive glance. "Nothing that concerns you, child."

"Hardly. If something about me has made you laugh, I would at least like the credit."

The woman beside him spoke up. "Count Tylieri was just commenting on how your lady's maid seems to have gone heavy-handed with your makeup. Have you no fear of looking like a _whore?"_

They tittered again. Vax dug his nails into his palm. _Be extra nice,_ rang Vex'halia's voice in his mind. But that was never his strong suit.

"You lot seem especially acquainted with prostitutes. Do ask them for makeup advice next time you visit."

The group dropped their smiles and glared at him. Count Tylieri grew red in the face, sputtering, ready to tell Vax off for his insolence when a hearty laugh burst out. Vax turned to see a handsome man of dark skin and a deep purple sherwani.

"You've got a sharp tongue!" he grinned as he brushed his long, black hair behind his ear and took a flute of champagne off a nearby servant.

"I'm glad someone appreciates it," Vax said, mock curtsying to the group before joining the man's side. "I've got no kind words for these old nobles that throw their weight around."

"Should you speak so poorly of your peers?"

"I suppose not, but it's never stopped me before." Vax held his hand out. "Lady Vex’halia Vassar, barely a noble."

His brown eyes, lined and dusted with color, sparkled as he took his hand. "Shaun Gilmore, Marquesian diplomat."

"Really? Marquet is such a beautiful country."

"Have you ever been?"

"I spent some time in Ank'Harel a few years ago, but the summers were too much for me. I don't tend to stay in one place for long."

"It's nice to meet a fellow traveler. I'm quite tired of people that spend a week in a beach resort and try to tell me how much culture they've absorbed."

Vax laughed. "Did you come all this way to see the Earl?"

"He wishes! I've never even met the man. I'm in London on business and a friend invited me as his plus one, though upon arrival he decided he'd rather mingle with his kind."

"Well, then he's made a grave error. I can't imagine why he'd prefer their company to yours."

"If you're going to keep up the flattery, I insist you stay with me!"

Vax talked and laughed and shared stories of the world with Shaun, spellbound by his charisma. Before they knew it, Archibald announced that it was time for dinner. The dining room was set with multiple round tables of dark carved wood rather than a single long one. Servants deftly circulated and helped everyone get settled. Vax quickly snagged a table out of sight in the far back, hoping to be alone with Shaun, when they were interrupted.

"Can I sit here?" A man, young and dark in far more casual dressing than everyone else stood by. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Of course," Vax gestured behind him. "All are welcome at the table of misfits."

"Is it that obvious? Should I have bowed first?" he said cheekily, giving a half bow before taking his seat. "Jarett Howarth, at your service."

They introduced themselves and allowed the servants to bring the first course. "So what brings you to the party, Mr. Howarth?" Shaun asked.

"Believe it or not, de Rolo himself. He's a good friend of mine," Jarett grinned at the disbelieving looks Vax and Shaun gave him. "I'm serious! Bring him here and I'll prove that I know him better than anyone else."

"He doesn't seem like one for friends, being a shut-in all these years," Vax remarked. "In fact, I haven't seen him all night."

"I know where the bastard is,"

Jarett rushed to his feet to salute the woman that had just spoken. She was an American, short and brawny. Her partner stood beside her, impossibly elegant in a blue dress. "At ease, Howarth," she commanded. "This isn't the front lines."

Jarett grinned widely. "Vex'halia, Shaun, meet Major Kima. Percy and I served with her."

Vax looked at her admiringly. "I never knew Lord de Rolo fought in the war."

"Imagine my surprise when I found out he was one of them high-class dandies," Kima muttered. She grabbed a cloth napkin and held it to the stain on her suit jacket. "Anyways, Allie saw him sneak into the kitchen. Who the hell hides from their own party? I oughta teach him a lesson in-"

 _"Calme-toi, mon amour,"_ Her partner put a hand on Kima's shoulder. "I'm sure he has his reasons. _S'il vous plaît_ , may we sit?"

The group found themselves joined by two more. Kima was boisterous, unrefined, and just what Vax needed. Her wife Allura Vysoren was quite the opposite, but as a member of the French Senate, she wasn't afraid to discuss topics that others would find improper. Together, they enjoyed a dinner where the conversation was lively, the dirty looks were ignored, and the forks sat on the wrong side.

Jarett leaned into Vax's ear as the last plate was whisked away. "May I offer you some advice?"

"You can offer, I can't promise I'll take it."

"You're, uh, becoming rather friendly with Shaun there. Nothing wrong with that, but I get the sense he doesn't...prefer female company."

Vax looked at Jarett, trying to decide whether to laugh or let out the heaviest sigh of his life. _Secrets are no fun._ Instead, he finished off his glass of wine. "You've all been wonderful, but I'm afraid I must excuse myself."

Shaun booed. "What about dessert?" Kima asked.

"I'm watching my figure," He stood up, brushing off his dress and slipping his feet back into his heels. "And I've got something better in mind. It's about time I track down Lord de Rolo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jarett: hey so i'm pretty sure gilmore is into dudes  
> vax: *looks into the camera like it's the office*
> 
> GUYS I love this AU so much please don't let me abandon it like all my other multichapter fics


	3. Chapter 3

Vax'ildan peered from the kitchen entryway at the man sitting at the counter. Pale, with nearly white hair and a strong jaw. His royal blue suit was a far cry from the scullery maids bustling around.

"Did you know," Vax approached, arms clasped behind his back. "That there's a party happening just outside of this kitchen?"

The man looked up from his plate for a moment. He returned to moving its contents around with a fork like the swirling abstraction of a Picasso painting. "I hadn't noticed. Is it any good?"

Vax hoisted himself up onto the counter. "It's alright. I wish I knew who to thank for the invite."

"That would be Lady Cassandra de Rolo."

"And what of Lord de Rolo? Where would I find him?"

"Why would you want to?”

“I think he might be worth knowing,” Vax held his hand out. "Vex'halia Vassar."

The man returned the handshake, firm and polite. "Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Earl of Whitestone."

Vax shook his head. "Insufferable. Have a drink with me, Freddie."

He let out a surprised laugh at the informality. "Gladly, but I'm afraid I don't drink white wine."

"Then don’t? Let’s drink red wine,” Vax said with a furrowed brow.

"We've served monkfish. You can't drink red wine with fish."

"Says who?"

"Someone far more knowledgeable about wine than you and I."

“Even enjoying yourself is unorthodox these days,” Vax swung his legs, letting his dress swish around his calves. “If a lady requests a bottle of your finest red, would you deny her?"

"I suppose my duty as a gentleman comes first." He didn't have to say a word before a servant stood ready with two wine glasses and a bottle of rich Cabernet Sauvignon. "Shall I aerate it first?"

"I don't know what that means, but I’ll humor you."

He watched curiously as Percival rose from his seat and pulled a funnel-shaped metal contraption from a cupboard. In went the full bottle, and, as the plug entered the outlet, the machine began to spin with an excess of grating whirs. Finally, Percival poured the wine into the glasses and sat back down at the counter, pushing one towards Vax.

"What did you do to it?" Vax asked, taking it cautiously.

"This electric machine exposes the wine to more air, improving the flavor. I built it myself," he said, looking proud of himself.

"That is...so stupid. You could just swirl it around in the glass."

Percival frowned. "Do you always say exactly what you think?"

"I was told to be polite tonight, actually, so this is me holding my tongue."

"Dare I ask what happens when it’s free?"

"My tongue can do an awful lot when free, but not without a drink first."

Percival's cheeks reddened in surprise. "A toast to open minds, then," The slightest smile crossed his lips as they clinked glasses and took a sip, the smile of a man proven right. "It tastes better, doesn't it?"

Vax rolled his eyes. It did taste better. But he wasn't sure whether it could be attributed to the earl's clunky and ridiculous machine or the fact that it was just an expensive wine. Or the copious amounts of wine already in him. Or the company.

"Bittered by the smug look on your face," he retorted, taking another drink. "You never explained why you're cowering in the kitchen."

"I'm not _cowering_ , I'm...staying out of sight. I'm not very good at socializing. This party was my sister's idea to reconnect with our fellow British nobility. Maybe you could accompany me and help with introductions?"

"Uh, well, I'd rather not," Vax said hastily. "I don't tend to acquaint myself too closely with them."

"Why ever not?"

"Why would I? They're like that machine of yours: shiny and impressive to look at, but all they really do is take up space."

“And what would that make you?”

“White wine, I suppose. Dry, refreshing,” Vax grinned. “Not to everyone’s liking.”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Percival mused, pouring himself a taller glass. “Nobility serves as a paragon of class and etiquette to the common populace. We represent a British legacy, and while I may not agree with the things my family has done to protect that legacy, I am obligated to uphold their traditional values.”

“I seem to have touched a nerve, Freddie. Tell me about your family.”

“That’s a long story.”

“How did you go from being locked in your princess castle to the front lines?”

“That’s an even longer story.”

Vax slid closer to him. “I met your war buddies. They seem like a fun lot to fight alongside.”

“There’s nothing fun or romantic or even noble about war. It’s hellish business.”

“Of course. And wouldn’t you say it’s an example of what a strict adherence to nationalism and legacy can bring?”

“I know you’re only trying to get a rise out of me,” Percival said.

“He catches on in record time! Smart _and_ keen to look at, this one.”

“How in God’s name did you get so impertinent? Surely you didn’t come out of the womb an ass.”

Vax laughed dryly. “There aren’t enough hours in a day for the length of _that_ story.”

“I can make time. You said you’ve gotten to know my friends from the war. They’re staying at the manor for the week and I’m sure they’d enjoy your presence.”

“I can’t. My sis- my brother has come home and I’d like to spend time with him.”

“Invite him too, I don’t mind,” Percival leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Vex’halia.”

_You don’t even know how right you are,_ Vax thought. He sat up suddenly as distant music touched his ears. “I think it’s time for your debut, Freddie.”

Percival allowed himself to be dragged out of the kitchen and into the ballroom. The home he had spent nearly his entire life in looked so foreign with other people in it. It felt like there were a million eyes on him. He tried to focus instead on the music and the space clearing around him and his partner.

“Is it presumptuous of me to assume I’d be leading?”

Vax realized his hand had instinctually gone for the small of Percival’s back, earning him a strange look. “Shut up,” he muttered, taking Percival’s hand.

They moved with the rise and fall of the band. It had been a while since Vax had ballroom danced, and even longer since he had done it gracefully. He let Percival’s strong arms and purposeful movements guide him. Until, of course, the steady rhythm bored him. He stumbled, swayed, let his dress spin as he passed himself from partner to partner. Shaun, Jarett, Percival again, Shaun again, Kima, even possibly Count Tylieri, before taking up the diplomat once more.

Vax basked in the way Shaun held his waist, just about to get the steps of a Masquesian dance right when a glance at the clock brought him out of his dreamy haze. _Damn, I was supposed to leave an hour ago._ A quick squeeze of Shaun’s hand and a goodbye, then Vax made his way out.

“Wait!”

Vax turned to see Percival hurrying after him. He stopped on the front steps of Whitestone.

“Do you have to leave so soon?”

“It was a wonderful party, but my chauffeur awaits.”

Percival fiddled with the embellishments on his jacket. “Will I ever see you again?” In the pale moonlight, he looked so sad, so alone.

Vax almost felt bad. “Goodbye, Lord de Rolo,” he said, hiking up his dress and leaving the earl with a teasing kiss on the cheek.

\-------------------------

Vex’halia sighed and checked her pocket watch again. Of course her brother was late. He was so good at being the life of the party, at having fun no matter the time and place. She was like that once. But her world had a way of taking the wind out of one’s sails.

A beautiful voice floated through the still night. Vex cocked her head. She stepped out of the car, her boots crunching through the gravel path as she followed the sound. It brought her to the tall hedges lining the manor’s back garden.

The curl of every foreign syllable pulled at her heart. She couldn’t understand the song but she could feel it. A lilting melody like barefoot steps on grass, soft as a gentle breeze over the sea. She leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse of who sang so sweetly when the tune came to an abrupt end.

“Is someone there?” A girl’s voice, Irish accent wavering.

“I’m so sorry,” Vex sputtered. “I didn’t mean…I was just standing here and-“

“It’s alright! I can stop if you’d like.”

“Oh, please don’t. It’s quite enchanting, I’ve never heard anything like it.”

“It’s an old ballad, sung for the woman you love.” She sighed dreamily. “I wish the whole world could hear me now that I have someone to think of when I sing it.”

“That’s so sweet. What’s her name?”

“I don’t know. I tend Lord de Rolo’s gardens and only just saw her as she arrived for the party.”

“Today?” Vex tried not to sound too scandalized. “How can you be in love with someone you’ve never met?”

“I fall in love every day. I love every flower that blooms, every leaf I cut, every bird that calls out to me. I suppose I don’t know them personally but they fill my heart with such joy and isn’t that what love is?”

“I…That doesn’t sound right.”

“Have you ever been in love before?”

“…no,” She crossed her arms. “But I think you should take time to know her before you let your heart follow its every whim. What does she look like?”

The gardener’s smile was almost audible in her words. “She’s tall, fair. Her hair is raven black hair and she was in a dress as red as the freshest roses.”

_“What?”_

“You know her?” she asked excitedly

“ _I’m her!_ Chauffeur! Yes, I’m her chauffeur!”

“Really?” The hedges rustled as she pressed herself against them. “You must tell me everything about her!”

“Well, she’s the daughter of Baron Syldor Vassar. Her home is in West Sussex, a small estate called Syngorn Place.”

“What of her mother?”

“She passed away in childbirth,” The lie she had repeated all her life tasted especially sour.

“That’s terrible business. I never knew my mam either, my dad raised me. I think I turned out alright.”

“Syldor isn’t really the _fatherly_ type. But he gave her a lavish place to grow up, servants at her beck and call, all the finest things. What more could a girl want?”

“I don’t know, what does she want?”

“It’s doubtful that even she knows the answer to that,” Vex mused.

“How about a rose?”

“I…I think she would like that very much.” Vex listened to the giddy footsteps dance through the grass, the distant humming of the gardener as she meticulously combed through the rosebushes. “You could meet her. Lady Vex’halia, I mean. If she’s ever at Whitestone again, I’ll tell her to make your acquaintance.”

The heavy _chunk_ of shears. “It’s sweet of you to say, but she’s special, high class. Not like us.”

“I’m her brother, I can convince her.”

“I thought you were her chauffeur?”

“Right! I’m her chauffeur, that’s also her brother. You know how the economy is these days-“

“I see her! Oh, isn’t she a vision?”

The lights of the manor poured through the open door as a red-dressed figure descended the stairs.

Vex rubbed the back of her neck. “I should get to the car, then.”

“Have a good night! And give this to her, please,” A tan, slender arm emerged through the hedges, holding one perfect red rose.

Vex took it, blaming the shiver as their fingers brushed on the cool night air. She tried to think of something to say: a thank you, a goodbye, anything. Instead, she rushed away without a word, holding the flower close to her chest as her heart fluttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its the ~making vax way cooler than he canonly is because i wanna be him~ for me


	4. Chapter 4

Vex'ahlia stopped at an ornate mirror hung on the wall. Barefaced with sleep-tousled hair. Unrefined, inelegant, but authentic. And just like her brother, who leaned over her shoulder to look at himself. She playfully pushed him aside.

“By the way, coffee is not breakfast!”

Vax’ildan grinned. “You haven’t had good Marquesian coffee. Sugar and no cream when you’re hungover? Unmatched.”

“Lord, I heard enough about your taste for Marquet last night,” she said, rolling her eyes and dragging Vax down the corridor. “I asked the kitchen to prepare a full English breakfast. It’ll be just like old times. Hello Mr. Dastell!”

They scampered through the open doors of the dining hall before the butler could announce their arrival, then froze in their tracks. He sat at the head of the same antique wooden table, newspaper open before his face like a mask he’d worn all their lives. Baron Syldor Vassar.

“Hello, Father,” Vex said, hurriedly pressing out the wrinkles in her sleeping gown. “I didn’t know you had come home already.”

He turned the page. “I didn’t know I had to give advance notice in my own home.”

The twins slowly took their seats: Vex to her father’s right, Vax beside her but chair angled away from the man. As servants began to bring about their food, Vex glanced at her brother sympathetically and tried again.

“How was London, Father?”

Syldor didn’t look up. “It was business. Seems you’ve forgotten how to conduct yourself in the one day I was gone. Late to breakfast, still in your nightclothes, influenced by _other’s_ poor deportment.”

Vax set down his glass loudly. _“Just_ like old times,”

“Vax’ildan,” Syldor flicked his eyes towards his son with distaste. “How long has it been? A decade?”

“Longer,” Vex piped up.

“Not long enough,” Vax muttered.

“Then you understand why I greet you less than warmly. You disrespected me, abandoned this family, then waltz in and expect open arms?”

“I don’t expect shit from you. The only reason I came was to see my sister. Who, speaking of, has done everything you have ever asked of her to the letter and you still treat her like she’s nothing.” Vax watched his father’s nostrils flare, jaw clench, forehead veins bulge. The fact that he had this man’s face, his blood, his name, made him want to stick a fork in his eye.

“Vax, please,” Vex pleaded. “Not in front of the-”

“Why not? He already sees me as no better than the help. Isn’t that all our mother was to him?”

A deep inhale gave the servants a chance to scatter. Even Erwen Dastell left his perpetual post beside the baron to stand by the door. But Syldor only returned to his breakfast.

“I know better than to stoop to your level of incivility. As they say, cooler heads will prevail.”

“Incredible,” Vax turned to Vex, scorn dripping from his words. “He really has mellowed out.”

“All I ask is that you don’t poison her mind with your anger and jealousy.”

 _“Jealousy?"_ Vax spat. “And what, pray tell, am I jealous of?”

Syldor pursed his thin lips. “Of the respect I show Vex'ahlia, yet you don’t seem to understand that respect is _earned._ You’ve always been an attention seeker. Crude, disruptive, bringing unsavory types into my home, acting like a fa...like someone not suited to be a gentleman.”

“I have NEVER heard such a load of bullshit in my life,” Vax fumed, a flush rising up his neck. “I gave up seeking your acceptance because I knew it was never coming. If anything, Vex is the one still naive enough to expect it.”

“Vex'ahlia obeys me and reaps the benefits. You run away to America and send her letters to convince her that living like a commoner is worthy of a Vassar. If you’re so sure that I do nothing for her, why am I the one that’s been with her all these years and not you?”

Vex slammed the table with her fists, rattling the dishes. “Can both of you stop it?” She pushed through the stunned looks from her brother and father. “I am capable of having my own thoughts, thank you!”

The dining hall was silent. She exhaled and swallowed away the bitter dryness in her throat. 

“Vax, for a long time, I did resent you for leaving me behind. You were my best friend. But I understand why you did it. I admire you for having the courage to be your own man. Please respect that we are not identical in every way, and your opinions do not speak for me.”

“And Father,” She turned to face him. “I know that Vax is not a reflection of the ideals you raised us to uphold. However, none of us are perfect, including you. I am eternally grateful for everything you’ve given me. Can’t you get along with your son, for my sake?” 

Syldor stared blankly at her before speaking. “You do not get to raise your voice at me in my own-“

Vax shot up. “Bloody unbelievable! You can’t even LISTEN to her without thinking you’re-“

Vex slumped back in her seat, urging the tears to keep from spilling. She refused to cry while the men talked over her. One wanted her to be louder, the other wanted her to be meeker. All she wanted was to be enough.

If only she had someone who listened, who understood. Someone who would choose mundane joy and contentment over greater things. Someone who thought she was perfect at first sight. The idea blossomed like a red rose tucked away in her dresser. 

“Vax and I can stay at Whitestone for the week.”

Syldor froze, the gears turning in his head. “The Earl of Whitestone asked you to stay with him?”

 _Of course this was the part he finally cared about._ “Yes, Father, along with some friends of his.”

“What excellent news! If he’s taken a liking to you, this could prove valuable for your future,” He smiled, relaxed, adjusted his suit. “But is it necessary that Vax’ildan accompanies you? We wouldn’t want him to conduct himself improperly in the earl’s presence.”

“You don’t know what he wants,” Vax grumbled. He sat down roughly, picking at the food on his plate. “I don’t see why I have to go, though.”

“Lord de Rolo invited both of us, _remember?”_

“I remember what he said quite well, maybe even better than you.”

“It would be good for both of us to get out of the house for a bit. Father, what do you think?”

“Of course! Will you go for lunch or tea? Or I could tell the chauffeur to take you there now. Wait, we _must_ get Vax’ildan appropriate attire for the occasion. You’ll go tomorrow.” He waved Mr. Dastell over to make plans.

“Whatever you see fit, Father. I think I’ll take breakfast in my room,” Vex sighed, her words falling on deaf ears as she pushed away from the table and excused herself from the dining hall.

Vax followed her into the corridor. “Vex,”

“Forget it. I don’t want to talk about this any longer.”

“And I don’t want you to still carry some anger towards me. Can’t we go back to-”

“Old times?” Vex leaned her back flat against the wall. “Do you even have good memories of those old times? Or do you regret every second you spent in this house?”

“Of course I have good memories here. They’re the ones with you and mother in them. It’s Syldor that brings out the worst in me.”

“I just...I just wish you stayed. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say.”

“I wanted you to run away with me. You still can. We could leave this place and you would never have to answer to Syldor again.”

“But that isn’t what I want. This is my home. I want to keep this family together, despite the sacrifices that come with it.”

“We’re beyond repair, Vex.”

“I have to try,” She rubbed her temples wearily. “I don’t have anything else, anywhere else to go. The happiness you find in freedom, I find in stability.”

“I’m not nearly as happy as you think I am, you know.” Vax quietly pulled the hands from her face, interlaced their fingers. “Why do you think I came back?”

Vex smiled. “Maybe what we both need is a little more of the other. And we might as well do it at the Earl’s expense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is my punk side and cottagecore side fighting for dominance


	5. Chapter 5

Vex turned off the ignition. “Get up.”

“Are we there already?” Vax yawned. He rubbed his eyes slowly, taking in the narrow town streets and the seedy inn before them. “Where the hell is this?”

“No idea. Just follow me.” Vex slung a bag from the back seat over her shoulder and walked with a purpose.

The inside of the establishment matched the exterior: greasy, unkept, the air ripe with stale beer and cigarette smoke. The innkeeper surveyed the pair, standing out like sore thumbs in a place like this.

“How ken I help ya?” he grunted.

“We need a room for one hour,” said Vex.

He smirked. “Innit a little early for-”

“She’s my sister, you pig,” Vax slapped a few pounds on the counter.

Vex grabbed the key and pulled him down the hall. She threw her bag onto the bed, locked the door. “Turn around and get your clothes off.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“So we can switch,” she said, pulling off her earrings. “You didn’t think _I_ would be the one meeting Lord de Rolo?”

“So we can...What the fuck is going on?”

“Turn around!”

Vax reluctantly obliged, facing the wall with his hands on his hips. “So I have to be you and you’re going to be me. For the whole time we’re there.”

“It’s not that hard to understand.”

“I’m trying to understand why you would have such a ridiculous idea. Aren’t you supposed to be the sensible one?”

“It was your idea first. And because of it, you know the Lord and his friends. We were invited so he could see you again, not me.”

“I know him one evening better than you do, so what?”

“So the longer you can charm him, the longer you can stay there and not at Syngorn Place.”

Vax pursed his lips, silently deliberating. “Well,” he finally said as he unbuttoned his shirt. “That explains why you sent for all my clothes in a size too large.” He grinned as a balled up skirt hit him in the back of the head. “I still don’t know what I’m supposed to say to the man. We’ve got nothing in common.”

“Just be yourself.”

“Exactly what you told me not to do the first time.”

“And you didn’t listen then either, so why start now?” She pulled the bindings around her chest tight. “This could actually be quite fun.”

“Haven’t been Mr. Vassar for one minute and you’re already doing things like having fun. I’m beginning to think this plan is more for you than it is for me.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Vex did up her buttons one by one, humming an Irish folk song.

\-------------------------

Archibald, the butler of Whitestone, pulled open the carved front doors of the manor. “Good da-”

A man came running down the hall, nearly knocking a sculpture over as he turned the corner. Percival stopped, adjusted his jacket and tie, cleared his throat nonchalantly. “Hello, Lady Vex'ahlia. Your father said you might be stopping by today.”

“We were just leaving,” Vax winced as his sister elbowed him in the ribs. “-is what I would have said, but luckily you ran fast enough to catch us. Freddie, this is my brother.”

Percival took Vex’s outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “Twins! You could nearly mistake one for the other.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Vax mused.

“Please, join us for lunch.”

Percival led them to the same dining room the party had taken place. Instead of multiple tables, the room was set with just one. It was immense, far bigger than the one they had at home. Carved ebony embellished with gold crests and ivory sculptings of knights and castles.

Jarett sat at the head, staring intently at his empty plate. Allura had a newspaper open before her, making comments to her wife as she read. Kima was consumed with ripping finished pages, rolling them into balls, and trying to land them in wine glasses.

“Everyone,” Percival gestured. “This is Vax’ildan, Vex'ahlia’s brother. Vax’ildan, these are some friends of mine.”

She greeted them, nodding as they introduced themselves and the three of them took a seat.

“We missed you at the party,” Jarrett said through a full mouth. He had attacked his food the second it touched his plate.

“Yes, your sister regaled us with stories _fascinantes,”_ Allura added. “I’m sure you have your own tales to tell.”

“I’m not much of the partying type, and I haven’t seen much of the world beyond England. Surely Vex is enough of a character for the both of us.”

Vax watched his sister’s hands fiddle with the overhang of the tablecloth. “Actually,” he quickly changed the subject. “I believe I am owed a story from Lord de Rolo.”

Percival laid his napkin across his lap. If the request unsettled him, he did not show it. “I simply don’t know what you are referring to.”

“Come now, every nobleman loves to throw his legacy around. And you’ve got a captive audience.”

“Oh, nobody wants to hear that-”

“I do!” Kima pressed. “We don’t know shit about you from before the war.”

“It’s a long and rather unhappy story. I don’t want to sour the mood…” He looked over his companions’ expectant faces and sighed. “Alright then.

“Whitestone is one of the oldest earldoms in England. My forefathers were bound by The Crown and by God to uphold these values: sovereignty, justice, compassion, mercy. Deliver light to an ever-powerful nation and carry on the lessons of the past.”

There was a far away look in his eyes as he spoke. Like the words he was reciting were etched on his heart, emblazoned with a sense of pride and belonging that were deeply foreign to the twins.

“To the commoners, we were generous and symbolic. To aristocracy, we were orthodox and worthy. My grandmother Melanie de Rolo was even close friends with Queen Victoria. We were always held in the highest regard by everyone.”

The light in his eyes dimmed as he took a sip from his glass and continued.

“There was a noble couple from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Lord and Lady Briarwood. They grew close to my parents. Dinners and travels and long nights in the smoking room. Sometimes the most unlikely pairings make the strongest bonds. Until they made an attempt on my parents’ life.”

Percy traced the edge of his glass. “Poison in the wine. I don’t know what drove the Briarwoods to do it. Anger. Jealousy. A misplaced sense of nationalism, perhaps. My parents survived, but they were never the same. Paranoia ran through their veins. They stopped hosting parties, they stopped going into town. Soon, the doors of the manor were closed and they never stepped out again.” He looked up. “Is that enough?”

Everyone at the table, eyes wide and food untouched, erupted into protest.

“Why the fuck would you stop there?” Vax asked incredulously.

“You wanted my legacy.”

“No, I wanted _your_ story. Not the one prewritten for you by others.”

“The rest is rather uninspired. I was born a decade after all of this, one of seven children. We were never allowed out, and the only person that entered Whitestone was the man that tended to our finances and tenant properties, Secretary Leore. For most of my life, all I knew were my family, our servants, and these four walls.”

“At least you had your siblings,” Vex said sympathetically.

“We weren’t close. I was the awkwardly positioned middle child, feeling too old to engage with the younger ones, but Julius and Vesper wanted nothing to do with me either. My parents were...distant. Strict. Untrusting of new ideas and unwilling to hear any mention of what lies beyond our estate.

“Left to my own devices, I spent all of my time reading. History, politics, philosophy, the sciences. I wanted to know everything about the outside world in hopes that one day I’d rejoin it. It was a lonely upbringing. Wake up, get dressed, spend my day in the library or tinkering with little mechanisms, wash up, have dinner, and go back to bed. Every single day for years.

“I was about seventeen when England joined the war. I didn’t know much about it other than it would be over by Christmas, and enlisting for my country was the noble thing to do. So I did. Ran away from home and joined Kitchener’s Army. That’s where I met Jarett,” Percy nodded towards his friend. “We were among the youngest, those who lied about our age to volunteer.”

“Nearly failed basic training, that one did.” Jarett interrupted.

Percy ignored him. “They put rifles in our hands and drilled discipline into our heads. It was a difficult adjustment being away from home for the first time. But through the sweat and grime and vulgarity, I began to feel like myself. If I had been forthcoming about my title, I could have been an officer. Instead, I was just one of many, a part of a cohesive unit.”

He shook his head. “We were so naive in the beginning, acting like we were on holiday. Nothing could have prepared me for war. It was horrifying. Stupid, futile, and tragic. England never should have gotten involved. I met Major Kima near the end, 1917 or so.

“Finally, it was over. Though it didn’t feel like much of a victory. After all the death and destruction, I didn’t know where to go. I worked at a convalescent home for some years before reading in the papers that my family had passed. It seems that Secretary Leore brought in the Spanish flu and my parents refused to allow a physician to treat them. My youngest sister Cassandra was the only survivor. The title passed itself down, and I returned home for the first time in years to become the Earl of Whitestone.”

Percy sat up in his chair. The others watched in silence as he began his meal, not knowing what to say. “It’s in poor taste to let me eat alone,” he said casually.

Thankfully, Jarett launched into a light-hearted story of his own. The rest of the table quickly joined in, making jokes and resetting the mood to its usual banter. But Vax couldn’t stop stealing glances at the earl. His previous conception of a stuffy, privileged traditionalist was beginning to dissolve.

The dishes were taken away by the servants and the group settled in the drawing room. Allura took a long draw from a cigarette and held out a light for Jarett. Kima began to rack up a game of billiards.

Vax gestured for Percival to come over. “Hey.”

“Hi. It was sweet of you to come back. After the party, I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Seeing you was my brother’s idea.”

“Was it? Where is he, then?”

Vax paused and glanced around. Vex’ahlia was nowhere in sight. In fact, he hadn’t seen his sister since lunch ended. “Whatever, shut up.”

“Did you pull me aside just to be rude?”

“No, you ass, I was actually planning on being nice.”

“That’s unsettling.”

Vax crossed his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry for pressuring you to talk about all...that. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t be sorry. Having someone willing to listen lessens the burden. It’s a privilege to mourn your childhood.”

“Still, it must have been difficult.”

“I’ve never told anyone the full contents of my life before. It feels like my soul is naked.”

“Vulnerability supposedly makes you stronger.”

“Then I must be a modern Hercules. When do I get to hear your story?”

“Not just yet.”

“Damn.” Percy grinned. “Promise you won’t pity me?”

He had a beautiful smile. It softened his stern, angular face and brought light to his eyes. Vax couldn’t help but match it. 

“I don’t know, I like my men broken and pathetic.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“And you’re some kind of expert on what I like and don’t like?”

“Oi, you two!” Jarett leaned on a cue stick. “Are you playing or not?”

Percival shrugged and headed to the table. “I’m a fast learner,” he tossed over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas your gift is backstory  
> okay but can you tell i’ve been watching The Crown


End file.
